the keeper's cottage · day 965 · afternoon

Evening meal prep

You meet in the kitchen as the sun begins to dip. The wind dies down slightly, leaving only the sound of the rising tide.

Kevin and Jenny shared lukewarm coffee at the cottage while the barometer climbed to 1015 hPa. They discussed the supply boat's confirmed arrival tomorrow at high tide, including antibiotics, a new Yanmar impeller, and pH strips. Jenny's ankle remained swollen and painful, and the air felt unnaturally still.

🌿 Jenny02:50

Coffee's still warm. Or lukewarm, probably.

Lean against the counter and gesture toward the tin mugs.

💭 peek at the thought

He looks exhausted. I can still feel the salt-sting in my ankle, but the air is finally stopping its pushing.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:50

Lukewarm's fine.

walk to the counter, pick up a tin mug, blow across the rim, take a sip

💭 peek at the thought

She's still limping. The ankle's holding but the swelling hasn't gone down the way it should by now. Coffee's been sitting since midday — she's right, it's lukewarm at best.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:52

The barometer is finally climbing. 1015.

Pick up my own mug and take a slow sip, watching him over the rim.

💭 peek at the thought

He's in that mood. The 'efficient' mood where words are a waste of calories.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:52

Holding steady?

set the mug down on the counter, turn toward the radio shelf, glance at the barometer needle

💭 peek at the thought

Rising pressure. Good for the crossing if the boat keeps to tomorrow's window. Bad for my chest — the change always tightens it before it loosens. She's watching me like she expects me to say something about the contract. Or the letter. Or both.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:54

For now. The air is too still, though. It feels like it's holding its breath.

Shift my weight off my swollen ankle and lean back against the whitewashed stone.

💭 peek at the thought

He only looks at the numbers when he's worried about the boat.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:54

Front's offshore. Boat's due tomorrow high tide. If the wind stays east, they'll make it.

lean back against the stove, arms crossed, eyes on the porch door

💭 peek at the thought

She feels it too. That dead calm before the wind shifts. The tide's high, the barometer's rising, and the air's gone thick and quiet. Classic front sitting offshore. The supply boat's supposed to hit high tide tomorrow — if the front holds, they'll make the window. If it breaks early, we're looking at another two weeks minimum.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:56

I hope they have the antibiotics. And the pH strips.

Look down at the bandage on my ankle, then back up at him.

💭 peek at the thought

He's already halfway on that boat in his head. I can see him counting the hours.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:56

Manifest said antibiotics confirmed. New impeller too. Strips were priority.

uncross arms, reach for the radio notebook on the shelf, flip to the last logged contact page

💭 peek at the thought

She's counting on the resupply. The doxycycline and metronidazole courses are down to the last blister packs — we burned through the cache treating her ankle. The pH strips are down to one in the new kit. If the boat doesn't come, we're improvising wound care and flying blind on the garden soil. She knows it. I know it. The contract renewal letter from the trust sits on the table, unsigned by either of us.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny02:58

Good. I'm nearly out of strips.

Reach for the tinned mackerel on the counter and slide it toward him.

💭 peek at the thought

He's clinging to that manifest like a map out of here. I just need the strips so I can stop guessing where the salt ends and the soil begins.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin02:58

Eat it. You need the protein more.

push the tin back toward her, pick up the radio notebook, read the captain's confirmed ETA entry again

💭 peek at the thought

She's pushing the mackerel my way. Half a tin left. She ate the other half at midday — first real appetite she's had in three days. The antibiotics are working. The red line on her ankle retreated yesterday. She's trying to normalize this: food, coffee, radio checks, supply boat manifests. Like the contract renewal isn't sitting on the table. Like Tom's letter isn't in the dry bag under the porch bench. Like I didn't spend forty minutes in the Bay of Biscay and come back different.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.